


Mist Buried In My Bones

by ArtemisDiana



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2018-03-18 18:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3578799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisDiana/pseuds/ArtemisDiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know how long he's been lost, only that he is, and that there is no going back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mist Buried In My Bones

     He doesn’t know quite how long he’s been out here, wandering the well-worn pathways and the lesser known deer trails of the Olympic National Forest, searching for something that no longer exists. His arms and chest itch in the morning fog, but he’s gotten used to that over the hours, the days, the weeks, since the burns had etched themselves into his skin, feather by feather. They could almost pass off as tattoos, the way the ash has embedded itself in his skin, if it hadn’t been for where the wing bones had carved themselves into thick, ropy twists of flesh under the wash of color, but the ache has become a welcome sensation as he walks on, still looking for something he can no longer find.

 

     There’s a hole in his chest that no amount of alcohol could ever fill, shaped like blue eyes that he could lose himself in, like constant scruff that always left a burn across the skin of his thighs, like a tiny smile that always set his heart to racing, and he doesn’t know how to handle the loss, other then to run away from everything that had ever reminded him of what he could never have again.

 

     There’s a curious pressure in the air as he pushes out of his latest nest, bare feet padding against the loam and leaf litter, and he can’t hear any of the surrounding wildlife. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end, as the forest seems to shift and spin of its own volition around him, and he swallows hard as the trees arch and twine over one of the deer paths that he doesn’t usually use. As he keeps watching, he can see a light glowing brighter, just beyond a bend in the path, and he’s torn between his curiosity and fear. This could be his answer, could be everything he’s been looking for, or this could be the moment of his final breaking.


End file.
